Review: ‘We Live in Time’ Is Greater Than the Sum of Its Flawed Parts – The Village Voice

John Crowley’s We Live in Time is far from perfect, but you can’t say it doesn’t wear its heart on its sleeve. An unabashedly sentimental tearjerker that features a beyond absurd meet-cute, issues ripped straight out of the headlines, and even a cancer diagnosis (I know, don’t run yet), this romantic drama could be accused of emotional manipulation, but there’s something undeniably tender in its approach to Nick Payne’s screenplay. Crowley, who helmed 2015’s brilliant Brooklyn and 2019’s less than brilliant The Goldfinch, grounds the evocative love story between Almut (Florence Pugh), a fiery and ambitious chef, and Tobias (Andrew Garfield), a recently divorced executive, in a realistic setting and tone. Well, most of the time. Unfortunately, the filmmakers also take a couple of hard left turns into screwball comedy and soapy melodrama instead of going with their understated instincts. When it’s over, you might feel like you’ve attended an engaging tea party that was intermittently interrupted by Love Actually. Still, thanks to the superb lead performances and some sublime moments, the movie transcends its flaws and becomes something greater than its parts.

We Live in Time, a forgettable title that should’ve been changed the minute it landed at A24, explores the relationship of this young London couple. Tobias doesn’t seem to mind his blasé corporate job at a cereal company, and is as openhearted as he is attentive. Although Garfield’s acting is fantastic, the movie’s unwillingness to explore his character beyond his good deeds is one of its inherent flaws. One night, Tobias is walking on the interstate when Almut slams into him with her car. Reminiscent of the scene where Brad Pitt gets annihilated in Meet Joe Black, it’s a shocking moment which climaxes with a romantic interlude in the hospital. Uh-huh. Why they couldn’t simply meet under more ordinary circumstances reflects another of the film’s near fatal flaws: its craving to continually “entertain” the audience.  

Why ruin a good story with Hollywood nonsense?

Spanning several years, the plot jumps back and forth in time, taking snapshots of the two protagonists’ lives while creating a narrative in which memories collide with the present. This nonlinear technique effectively illustrates how two intertwining lives can create a motif of formative memories. When one of them is diagnosed with a life-threatening disease, in the first 10 minutes of the film, a cloud hovers the entirety of their relationship, which includes their courtship (easily the best part of the movie), raising a daughter, and Almut’s desire to win a cooking championship. The story works best when we simply follow them through their day-to-day lives, bearing witness to how their divergent personalities converge. Crowley imbues these scenes with a relaxed pace and tattered nobility, while Justine Wright’s fluid editing and cinematographer Stuart Bentley’s warm but untethered approach creates an ethereal feeling that we’re floating through their world instead of being yanked in and out of it. These are the moments when the film finds its footing and naturalistic tone.

Unfortunately, the movie’s positive qualities underscore the more ridiculous choices. In addition to a scene where Tobias interrupts Almut’s party to make a heartfelt speech, which doesn’t align with his established reticence, there’s a jaw-droppingly farcical sequence in a petrol station that takes an interminable amount of time to set up and execute. Without giving it away, suffice it to say that the scene is so unconvincing and obviously designed to tug at your heartstrings, you kind of sit there numb to its coquetry. These broadly comic scenarios might’ve looked great on paper, they even give the movie a little verve here and there, but with a bit of reflection you realize how incongruent and somewhat manipulative they actually are. Why ruin a perfectly good story with Hollywood nonsense? Trust your audience and your characters. We don’t need a puppet show in the middle of a heavy drama.

Obviously, one of the main reasons to see this film is the magnificent performances by Garfield and Pugh. These are two of the best actors working today, and this film showcases their strengths. Although Payne’s screenplay prevents them from digging too deep into their characters, both actors find a real depth to their roles. While Pugh’s fiery and ambitious Almut challenges Garfield’s quaint Tobias at every turn, his kindness and patience has a calming effect on her. At first, their relationship doesn’t make a lot of sense, but as the movie finds its groove in the second act we see how their differences actually complement each other. Garfield and Pugh have a wonderful onscreen charm; you can imagine them joking around between takes. But it was difficult not to notice their lack of sexual chemistry. The movie isn’t shy about sex, it’s onscreen, but their passion is not.

Essentially, We Live in Time addresses something quite poignant: the unrelenting and problematic nature of time. Even the love story takes a backseat to the intricate, nonlinear narrative, demonstrating how our lives can be seen as a patchwork of memories. Structurally, the movie’s message is clear: Our time is limited, make sure to pay attention to the things that matter. It’s a sentiment that’s betrayed by the filmmakers when they shoehorn farfetched Hollywood-style scenarios into an otherwise modest story. If they’d only trusted their characters to tell their own stories, instead of meddling, this could’ve been a more nuanced and idiosyncratic experience, rather than merely an enjoyable one. At times, Crowley’s film feels like an indie that’s been given the Hollywood makeover. This is especially obvious in the final scene, which is so vulnerable and beautifully refined you wonder why the rest of the film couldn’t have maintained that same intimate resonance.    

Still, warts and all, Crowley has crafted an endearing movie that is happy to be an unabashed, crowd-pleasing homage to love, life, and, ultimately, death. It’s also a good respite from all of the overintellectualized claptrap playing in empty theaters today (Megalopolis; Joker: Folie à Deux), and the raucous tentpole sequels grinding our senses to dust (too many to list). Watching this movie is like listening to Al Green’s “Greatest Hits” after wearing out your progressive rock albums — there’s something calming about going to the theater to watch human beings doing human things. Dammit, it’s good for the soul.  ❖

Chad Byrnes has been a film critic for the L.A. Weekly and the Village Voice for six years. He lives in Los Angeles.